


Sleep is for the Weak

by mayjeffneverstopyou



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Minor Combeferre/Courfeyrac, Minor Joly/Bossuet Laigle/Musichetta, Sickfic, could be seen as platonic/romantic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-24
Updated: 2017-03-24
Packaged: 2018-10-10 05:39:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10430316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mayjeffneverstopyou/pseuds/mayjeffneverstopyou
Summary: Combeferre let out a sigh, “Our all-powerful leader is refusing to acknowledge that he’s sick.”“That’s because I’m not-”“SO,” Courfeyrac butted in, “We are refusing to hold the meeting until Monsieur ‘Sleep is for the weak’ finally admits his weakness and gets some fucking rest.”





	

Shit. Grantaire was late. Like always.

On the bright side, at least Enjolras can’t think any worse of him than he already does. That’s not really the bright side, but Grantaire was never good at being optimistic anyway. He’d really tried to be punctual today, but it seems the fates are not in his favour as broken alarms and diverted buses held him off from reaching the Café Musain on time.

Out of breath and twenty minutes late, a dishevelled Grantaire burst into the ABC meeting, almost scattering the poster designs he’s carrying all over the floor.

“I’m here! I’m late but I’m here!” he cried triumphantly to the silent group of students, a few of whom turned to acknowledge his entrance.

He slowed to a halt. “Wait, what’s going on?”

Combeferre let out a sigh, “Our all-powerful leader is refusing to acknowledge that he’s sick.”

“That’s because I’m not-”

“SO,” Courfeyrac butted in, “We are refusing to hold the meeting until Monsieur ‘Sleep is for the weak’ finally admits his weakness and gets some fucking rest.”

“Um...” Grantaire trailed off, “You’ve just been sitting here in silence for the last half an hour?”

“No,” Jehan protested “I balanced 11 things on Bahorel’s head while he’s asleep, look!” And sure enough, the man in question had a variety of objects balanced precariously on top of him including, but not limited to: several pens, a stack of post it notes and a half eaten muffin.

“Sure, Jehan. Very productive.”

“Well,” Combeferre stated, “Some of us left but Enjolras insists that he needs those poster designs so a bunch of us stayed here to wait with him.”

The aforementioned man himself was presently attempting not to look like death warmed over and he seemed to be doing a spectacularly poor job of it. Enjolras made a valiant effort to get radiate his usual air of leadership but the overall effect was that of a kitten who thought themselves a lion.

“Now the posters are finally here, we can get started.”

“I don’t think so.” said Musichetta firmly, “You are going to go home, take some medicine and go to sleep.”

“I’m not even tired!” declared Enjolras.

“That’s what Bahorel said before he fell asleep.” added Jehan helpfully.

Combeferre got to his feet. “Okay, well as fun as this has been, I have to head off to the library. Med school isn’t all fun and games, you know.”

“I’ll come with you!” exclaimed Courfeyrac, jumping up like an overexcited puppy. “Wait, are there any fun and games in med school?”

“Can someone make sure Enjolras gets home okay? I don’t want him attempting to work in the state he’s in.” said Combeferre.

Musichetta shook her head, “Sorry bro. My shift doesn’t let out for another hour and then its date night with the boys. Jehan?”

“I had assumed I was on Bahorel duty.” They said, patting the said of the sleeping man’s face.

Bahorel stirred and let out a manly whimper.

Combeferre turned to face the only other person in the room.

Grantaire paled slightly, “Oh no. I mean, really? Me? I could call Cosette over, I’m sure she’d love to take care of-”

“Nonsense,” said Courfeyrac with a smug grin, “I mean, you’re here and I know for a fact you don’t have class this afternoon. Enjolras has his key, you know where he lives. Read him a bedtime story, it’ll send him right off.” He clapped Grantaire on the shoulder as he passed by and added “I knew we could count on you R!”

Musichetta laughed from her place behind the bar, “Don’t worry chico, as soon as you get him home he’ll fall right asleep.”

“I am still here you know,” Enjolras huffed, “And I am perfectly capable of walking home alone.”

Grantaire raised an eyebrow at him. “If you can walk out the door without falling over I’ll let you go home by yourself.”

Never one to back down from a challenge, Enjolras hauled himself up and marched towards the door. At least, that is what he attempted to do. He made it approximately five steps before a sudden sneezing fit overcame him, propelling him into a nearby chair with a clatter. The sudden loud noise jolted Bahorel awake and caused him to bolt upright, scattering the various balanced objects to the floor.

Jehan let out a small shriek, “My muffin!” they cried.

Musichetta cast a disgusted look over at them. “You were going to eat that?”

Bahorel looked around, confused. “What’s happening? I’m awake. Why are there crumbs on my face?”

“Um... No reason.” Replied Jehan sheepishly.

Grantaire sighed and picked up the fallen chair. “Come on Apollo, looks like I’m taking you home.”

Enjolras groaned and followed Grantaire, finally admitting his defeat.

“Good luck!” Jehan called after them as they left.

As soon as they had left the Musain Grantaire felt a wave of ‘oh shit’ wash over him. He usually avoided spending time alone with Enjolras due to his bad habit of saying things without thinking.

A small patch of sunlight fought its way through the dense layer of cloud and Grantaire couldn’t help but think it an apt metaphor for Enjolras’ current plight. Always pushing through and trying to burn bright, even in the worst of conditions.

Enjolras seemed to be having a tough time staying awake, Grantaire remarked, as his eyes drooped for the third time in a minute.

“You’re fighting to keep your eyes open, how have you survived this long?”

Enjolras yawned and answered “Copious amounts of coffee and Combeferre reminding me to eat.”

“What would we do without our lord and saviour Combeferre?” Grantaire smiled.

“I think Courfeyrac says that on an hourly basis.”

Grantaire gasped. “Enjolras making jokes? Damn, you must be seriously ill.”

Enjolras was really struggling not to collapse on top of Grantaire at this point. “You’re... ill.”

“I’m wounded.”

The pair stopped in front of Enjolras’ block and, when Enjolras eventually fished the key out of his pocket, let themselves inside. Thankfully the elevator was working, an unusual event, as for some unknown reason Enjolras lived on the 7th floor.

“There is a God!” said Grantaire as he directed Enjolras into the elevator.

As soon as the doors closed Enjolras slumped against the wall.

“Oh hey hey hey, Apollo no!” muttered Grantaire as he tried to keep Enjolras upright. “Five more minutes, then you can sleep.”

Enjolras flopped onto Grantaire’s shoulder and muttered “Don’t need sleep. Sleep is for the weak.”

“Sure it is.”

After what felt like an age the doors opened and Grantaire heaved Enjolras to his feet. “Come on mighty leader, time for your nap.”

Somehow Grantaire managed to get Enjolras into his apartment without dropping him as the man himself was not much help and, after leaving him to change into comfortable sleepwear, managed to locate some paracetamol and fetch a glass of water. When Grantaire returned Enjolras had managed to remove his jeans but had somehow tangled his head in his T-shirt.

Grantaire’s offer of help was met with a groan and a quiet response of “Yes please.”

After eventually sorting out the small clothing disaster a new challenge presented itself in Enjolras refusing to take the medicine.

“Come on E, it’ll help you.” Grantaire coaxed.

“Nooooo, sleep now.”

“Oh that’s how it is? Five minutes ago sleep was for the weak.”

“I... may be weaker than anticipated.” Enjolras relented as he collapsed onto the bed.

Grantaire gasped dramatically, “What’s this? Is the mighty Apollo finally admitting that he was wrong?”

“Shussshhh let me sleep, you were all for it just now.”

Grantaire waved the medicine under Enjolras’ nose. “Okay, just take this and then I’ll leave you to sleep.”

“No don’t leave, R.” Enjolras attempted to grab Grantaire’s arm and nearly fell off the bed.

“Okay, okay. I won’t leave. Take this and I’ll stay while you sleep.”

Enjolras finally gave up on escaping the medication, swallowed the pills, and crawled under the blankets.

“Sleep with me R, don’t leave.”

Grantaire’s heart skipped a beat. “Being a bit forward aren’t you E?”

Enjolras finally managed to get a hold on Grantaire’s arm and dragged him towards the bed.

“Woah, okay. I’m staying.” Grantaire said as he climbed onto the bed and lay down, on top of the covers. He wasn’t looking to give himself a heart attack today, thank you very much. Enjolras seemed to be content with this and lay his head down on Grantaire’s shoulder.

“You’ll still be here when I wake up right?” he whispered.

Grantaire smiled fondly, “Yes Enjolras, I will.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”


End file.
